Greater Than Gravity
by SeaBreeze
Summary: The Wanderer flies above the Tokyo streets, protecting the people below with his superhuman abilities. But things are about to get complicated for both Tokyo and its hero when a villain rises nearby...
1. Prologue, Part One: Hundred

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Prologue: Hundred

A/N: This story has been one I've been wanting to write for a long, long time. I've had serious issues with writer's block and inspiration and everything, but it's still something I want to write. Even if it's a painful labor, in the end it will be a labor of love. I hope you enjoy it, and this prologue is going to be kind of vague so don't feel too bad if you're confused. Also, this prologue is not an indication of what the rest of the story will be like, but it is important to the plot. Oh, ps, title inspired by the Fray's song "Hundred". It's a fabulously accurate mood-setter for this chapter.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shonen Jump, etc. NOT ME.

--

It was heavy.

The husband toiled underneath its weight, knowing how very important it was to carry it, but wishing it weren't so heavy. His heart was heavy enough, heavy enough to drop right out of his body and fall into eternity. He didn't need any more weight on his shoulders.

She understood; he knew she did. They were like that. Often times he didn't even have to say what he felt… she just knew. She would understand. No one else could.

He trudged along with the other men – did he know their names? Most likely not – identically dressed in crisp black. Black. A heavy color. He could not escape the burden – even the clouds were dark and full. The sky itself bore down on him.

When they set it down, it was as if the weight stayed with him. He stood, sat, stood, in the front, mind numb and curiously foggy as the man up front spoke eloquently of her. She would love how that man talked; would listen with rapture. He could not bring himself to listen, no matter how he wanted to. It was too much, too easy to speak of something you did not fully understand. He could not open his mouth.

There were songs and recitations, tears and even a few laughs. The world around him was a blur, he felt himself idle and immobile amongst it all. Amongst all the life. Was he dead? It almost seemed so. He wished for death. The world moved too fast and he was too tired, too worn out. It was too much.

Hands patted his back, rubbed his shoulders, wrapped themselves around him in sympathetic support, and he wondered if there were tears on his face. He was too separate from his own body to know. A self-vertigo that numbed him and made everything close to bearable.

Lilies were everywhere. She loved lilies. Like bright pin points of light on a dark day, they surrounded him and overwhelmed him. Lilies were for her, not for him. He stared at the lilies in his hands, the most beautiful he could find. For her. He lay them carefully on the glossy oak, mumbled a prayer that was nothing more than words on his lips at the time. Goodbye would not come. It couldn't be.

They had been a whole. A husband, a wife.

He was a husband without a wife. So incomplete, so unnatural. Half a being. Half a soul.

The guilt was the heaviest of all. She had asked much of him, and he had done it for her. Because it was right. Because she asked him. Because he loved her more than anything in the world. Because she looked at him with eyes so strangely, unnervingly calm, and asked him to sacrifice her.

She had fallen. Gravity, pulling her down. Pulling him down still. He could do nothing.

He cut his hair. She had always wanted to see it shorter. She would run her fingers through it and laugh at how quickly they took to reach the ends.

It was too much. Too much weight, too much guilt. Too much life around him where he felt none. He could not, could not could not could not could not could not could not

He ran. Hard leather shoes beat blisters into his feet and toes step after step, beat after beat. His clothes were stiff and scratchy, but he was only fueled to run more. He had much ground to cover, much to do in the time to come…


	2. Prologue, Part Two: Golden

Greater Than Gravity

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Prologue, Part Two: Golden

A/N: Big thanks to anyone who reviewed the vague first part of the prologue to this story. I promise, after this mini prologue, the story will get on its feet and take off. If you are reading this as it is it written and waiting for subsequent chapters to come out, it's probably not great, but I think in the end the overall effect is what I want.

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

_The Tokyo Sun_

_June 13, 2008_

_1.50_

_Biography of a Hero: Tokyo Celebrates The Wanderer_

_Tokyo, Japan._

_Who is the Wanderer? Where does his strength come from? What drives him to save the lives (and livelihoods) of Tokyo citizens day after day, year after year?_

_No one knows where or when he was born, no one knows who his parents are or where he came from. No one knows his real name, and nobody knows his political party. _

_What all of Tokyo, knows, however, is that the Wanderer is the city's saving grace._

_Young or old, big or small, no person or company is left to their own defenses with the Wanderer on guard._

"_You would think, with Tokyo being is big as it is, that he would miss someone here or there." Said Yuki Karana, 64, who owes her life to the Wanderer after he pulled her out of her vehicle last July – just before it exploded. "But the moment my life was in danger, even before I knew it, he was there. And so sweet!"_

_Shorter than most women, wiry, with long red hair and strikingly large blue eyes, his image does not seem like it would strike confidence in the hearts of millions. Yet the Wanderer somehow manages to do so anyway._

"_I was afraid he wouldn't be able to lift me up," said Shinichi Seitaka, 32. "Until I watched him lift a semi off my body one-handed."_

_The Wanderer's unusual looks don't seem to deter his female fanatics._

"_He's so brave!" exclaimed 22-year-old Aoki Shimi. "My friends and I are just waiting to see which of us he rescues first!"_

_It is hard to find any citizen of Tokyo who is not grateful, admiring, and even worshipful of the Wanderer. Check the jail cells, however, and you'll hear a different tune. When asked, most of the cell inhabitants only offered mumbled threats involving the petit hero. A few, however, were shockingly respectful._

"_Yeah, he got me," said an anonymous criminal. "Just like he got everybody. But he told me – like he tells everybody else he catches – that there's more out there for me than running from the law and spending my time in jail cells. I hope, once I get parole, to do my best to prove him right."_

_One who does little to hide his disdain for the Wanderer is Tokyo's Chief of Police, Saitoh Hajime. While Officer Hajime never goes so far as to directly and publically criticize the Wanderer, there are rumors of tense feelings between the two. Perhaps Officer Hajime finds a hero unnecessary in a city with such a strong police force, but the plain fact is there is only so much mortal men can do in the face of superhuman villains and natural forces. When asked about the hero, Officer Hajime's secretary would only give us this: "The Tokyo police work in tandem with the Wanderer and respect him as an ally and friend."_

_For the past 15 years, the Wanderer has been guarding the city of Tokyo from crime and accident. Some of his most notable feats include defeating supervillain the Silver Freeze, now known as Kurogasa, in 1999; preventing the earthquake of '02, and most recently, uncovering and dismembering the largest crime syndicate in underground Tokyo last fall. For these deeds the Wanderer has fame; for his kind, unrelenting dedication to justice, safety, and the happiness of the Tokyo people, he has won our admiration._

"_I simply can't ever begin to repay him or thank him enough," Said Suki Hikaici, mother of young twin boys who might've drowned last year without the Wanderer's intervention. "He saved the lives of my boys. I don't know what I'd do if I'd lost them. I hope he knows that if I could, I would give him as great a gift in return. Most of us would."_

_Nothing is known about the Wanderer's life, but one fact about him unites most Tokyo Citizens together: without him, our lives would be filled with much pain and sorrow._


	3. The Hero

Greater Than Gravity

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter One: The Hero

Author's Notes: This is my third try with this particular story. I just finished writing 30+ pages on it, and decided I hated it. Now I think I know what I want and how to get across what I want to get across while still making it a fun AU fic, so hopefully all the work I've done on this story will pay off. I really hope you enjoy it. Hell, I hope I enjoy it.

This story begins ten years after the first part of the prologue.

Disclaimer: In acknowledging that I'm creating a work of fanfiction, I am acknowledging that I do not claim the ownership of these characters.

--

I floated above the dazzling Tokyo skyline, feeling a gentle breeze tug at the corners of my cape as I surveyed the city below me.

The streets were quiet, the dark of night calm and peaceful compared to the chaos of day. I felt the cool air against my cheeks and in my lungs and looked forward to putting my feet on solid ground; to entering the life of the average civilian.

Not that I had ever been an average civilian, or ever would be, for that matter. It was an act, the nights I returned home, removed my suit and my mask, and sat in my living room chair drinking tea like I had just spent a long day in the office.

Yet it was truthfully an act that kept me sane. It was something I looked forwards to, for in those short hours before and after my duty began, I could relax. I could just be Kenshin Himura, strange millionaire alone in his giant mansion with nothing to do but bask in his wealth.

The balls of my feet hit the railing of the balcony outside of my bedroom, and I turned one last time to check the city below. All was right, as I had left it.

I turned back to my home, removing my mask with a sigh of relief as I leapt lightly to the balcony floor. It was good to be back. I pulled open the balcony doors to my bedroom and stepped inside. It was dark enough that I could barely make out the shapes that were my bed and my closet, but it was not the first time I had walked into my room blind. I knew where everything was.

Regardless, I flicked on the lights to reveal a massive bedroom, the theme of which was "simple and white", and began to change from my suit into a pair of checked flannel pajama pants and a grey t-shirt. I pulled off my boots and tossed them carelessly to the floor, wiggling my toes happily in the open air. I peeled my suit off, feeling the days' sweat and grimacing as I tossed that, too, to the ground. The suit, mask, boots, all went down the laundry shoot.

I marveled at how comfortable my pajama bottoms were, as I do every night, and headed downstairs. On the way down the huge, glossy oaken spiral staircase, I ran into my manservant, who had evidently been on his way up.

"I thought I heard you up there," he said calmly, as if he had expected to find me here.

"Good evening, Soujiro," I replied. Soujiro Seta had been my right-hand man since the day I officially began working as protector of Tokyo.

"Quiet night, sir?" Soujiro asked, smiling as he fell into step with me. I shrugged.

"Pretty much," I said. "A couple car jackings, a suicide attempt, and a kidnapping. Nothing strenuous."

"Tokyo has been calm as of late," Soujiro noted. "Perhaps the criminals are starting to give up," I chuckled a little.

"The calm before the storm." I said. "I'm just waiting for them to strike all at once."

"You could probably use the excitement," he said wisely.

"That's true," I conceded.

"Would you like some tea? I just started a pot a few minutes ago."

"That'd be great, Sou," I said. We reached the bottom of the stairs and I followed him to the cavern-like, marble-tiled underground kitchen. A pot of tea was indeed whistling on the stove, and I took a seat at the kitchen table as Soujiro took care of the tea.

"Where's Miss Misao?" I asked.

Misao is the second and last member of my household, excluding myself. Officially, Misao is my maid, just as Soujiro is officially my butler. The difference between them is that Soujiro is _actually_ my butler, among other things, while Misao does not know the first thing about being a maid. It is Soujiro who actually takes care of her duties of cleaning and keeping the house looking neat.

Misao actually makes more of a mess than Soujiro and I combined, so I find it ironic that technically she was supposed to be keeping the house clean. Regardless, she is essential to my success as a hero in Tokyo: she makes, mends, and improves my costume on a regular basis, as well as ensures that my beeper is constantly in top working order. To her credit, Misao is actually a master technician and hacker. If something is broken and not working, Misao is in there with a wrench and a whole box of tools I couldn't name to save my life fixing it, and most likely making it even better than before. It's thanks to Misao that I can contact the police when I need to without being tracked; its thanks to Misao that it is impossible to get into my house unless Soujiro lets you in – or unless you fly to my balcony. She does so many things with the computer and telephone line to keep my identity and my home protected that are so advanced she can't even explain them to me.

But for all her genius, she still is pretty messy.

"I was having some problems with the water temperature," Soujiro answered, back to me as he poured my tea into a small china teacup. "I'm sure she's tooling around in the basement right now."

"What about me tooling around in the basement?"

I turned around to see a grease and dirt-smudged Misao standing in the doorway, overalls hanging on by one strap over a tank top. She glared at Soujiro, hands on her hips in indignation.

"I'll have you know this old mansion would fall apart without me to keep it running!" she said huffily. Soujiro rubbed the back of his head and laughed.

"I believe it would," he agreed sheepishly. "I was just telling Mr. Himura – "

"Oh, whatever, Sou," she said, waving away his explanation. "We all know you only demean my job because you don't understand any of it," she winked at him and plopped down next to me. "What's up, Himura, done for the night?"

"Tea, Misao?" Soujiro asked as he set my cup down in front of me.

"No, thanks," She said, though she eyed mine with interest. I hid a grin and took a sip.

"Soujiro, are you having any?" I asked. Soujiro set the teapot back on the stove.

"I've had my quota for the day," he said with a grin. I shrugged. There was no use pushing Soujiro – as easygoing as he looked, he was immoveable as granite.

"Suit yourself," I said.

"So, Himura," Misao began, leaning forward. "Catch any cool bad guys tonight?"

"Mr. Himura has been experiencing a lull in crime lately," Soujiro answered for me. "Correct?"

I inclined my head briefly, taking the hot teacup and breathing in its soothing steam. I had long since given up getting Soujiro to call me by my first name. Like his constant smiling, it was a habit I knew would not be changed. He had worked for and lived with me for almost ten years, and yet to him I was still – and probably always would be – Mr. Himura.

He was like this with everyone, save, of course, for Miss Misao. He was always just a little more formal with her than with everyone else, yet she was the only person he called by her first name. I imagine it has something to do with Misao herself and her outgoing nature. Still, every once in awhile it irked me that my right hand man – who was also essentially my best friend, someone who had lived with me for a decade – still called me Mister, while he called this young, genius technician by her first name, and she had only joined our household in the past year.

Not that I let it bother me too much – I suspected from the moment she moved in that she had an odd affect on the stoic, ever-smiling Soujiro.

I realized I had drifted, gotten lost in my thoughts, and snapped out of it, shaking my head and smiling apologetically up at Soujiro.

"Yes," I replied finally, and, face unchanging, Soujiro nodded, as if the conversation had not just taken a strangely long pause.

"The question is, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Misao asked, wrinkling her forehead in thought.

"Time will tell," I said, draining the teacup.

"For now it means Mr. Himura can take it a little easier," Soujiro said.

"Maybe focus a little more on the personal life," Misao added slyly. Soujiro laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Personal life?" I asked. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean you haven't had a woman over since you moved in," Soujiro said pointedly. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks.

"Soujiro – how could you even suggest - ?" I choked out, embarrassed. Both Soujiro and Misao laughed heartily at my expense, and I scowled, still blushing bright red.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Himura!" Misao said once she had calmed down. "Though evidently you really do need to get – "

"That's not fair!" I interjected, stopping her before she could embarrass me further.

"All we're saying," Soujiro said with his placating and cheerful smile, "is that it wouldn't hurt to go on a date or two." At his words, Misao nodded seriously.

"And when do you propose I do this?" I demanded. "I patrol Tokyo all day, protecting and stopping criminals – "

"And then you come home in the evening and do nothing," Misao said.

"I need some time to relax and, oh, I don't know, sleep!" I retorted.

"Sleep is important," Soujiro said.

"But right now you are in _serious_ need of some socializing," Misao said, as if continuing Soujiro's line of thought. "Socializing with people who _aren't_ me or Soujiro."

I stared at the two of them, realizing it was two against one. But the deal breaker was that it was my life, not theirs, so my opinion was what held weight. I sighed, suddenly exhausted.

"Look, I appreciate your efforts," I said quietly, bowing my head so that my bangs fell in front of my eyes and blocked me from Soujiro and Misao's view. "Truly. But in all honesty, I'm not ready to date yet, that I'm not."

They were quiet; they knew they had touched a nerve.

"Alright, Himura," Misao said softly after a moment, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But just think about it, ok? We're worried about you." She squeezed my shoulder and left me alone in the kitchen with Soujiro. We said nothing for a whole minute, and neither of us moved. I swallowed heavily.

"It's just the last time I ever saw a woman as something other than a victim was…"

"Before my time," Soujiro cut in, knowing the memory brought me pain. I nodded, glad he understood.

"I think I'll retire now, its been a long day." I stood and stretched and began to head for the door. "Good night, Soujiro."

"Sir," Soujiro said, stopping me before I reached the doorway. "As a friend, I must say that it has been almost ten years since Tomoe. Your wounds will never heal if you never try to move forward, and perhaps the best way to do that is also the hardest." He said this firmly but with sympathy, and I sighed, his proposal weighing on my shoulders heavier than ten days' worth of hard work.

"I know, Soujiro," I said, unable to explain that even if I knew how to get close to a woman again, I wasn't sure if I wanted to put in the effort. "Good night."

--

I woke with a start at 5:30 the next morning with the distinct feeling that someone was in serious need of my help. I threw off the covers and began dressing immediately. Now was not the time for sluggishness; I felt a heist in progress.

It had been a gift I was born with; the ability to sense when others in my city were in danger. Luckily this ability also came with an internal tracking device that led me directly to those in need of help. At first, when I was very young, it had been very overwhelming. At five years old, you can hardly rescue a boat of drowning men, super senses or not. I would cry and scream to the nearest adult, but no one listened. I can't blame them, looking back, but if they had listened, important lives would've been saved.

As I grew older, I began taking things into my own hands. Mostly I went unnoticed, except by those who were rescued and those who were thwarted; until I was about eleven. The mayor's precious daughter had disappeared; it was widely believed that she had been kidnapped. I had felt her distress and followed my senses to a run-down mobile home on the wrong side of town, bided my time, and when the moment was right I grabbed the little girl and ran.

Nothing really super about it. No flying, no cape, no super strength or laser vision or cheesy dialogue as I valiantly rescued a damsel from the grasp of villains.

I knew where she was, I snuck in when I heard the kidnappers drive off, and I took her home.

Of course, you rescue the mayor's five-year-old daughter, and people pay attention.

I was rewarded with, believe it or not, a key to the city, along with reward money and the mayor's gratitude. The mayor's daughter's rescue made front page news, and not long after I was contacted by the man who would become my master.

I pulled on my boots and zipped them up quickly, reached for my mask on my bedside table (Soujiro had placed it there sometime during my slumber), opened the doors to my balcony, and I was off.

Flying was not a natural talent of mine, but as my Master had told me, all heroes are born with certain powers, and the ability to develop others. Flying, thank the gods, was one of those powers I had developed through years of training. Without its speed and accessibility, doing my job would be much more difficult.

I followed the tug deep in my chest to the biggest art museum in the city – the National Art Center. The National Art Center was known for hosting many temporary and priceless exhibits, and clearly somebody had it in mind to take a few pieces off their hands. I couldn't help but laugh a little – no one had successfully pulled off a heist since I'd got here nearly ten years ago. Their chances were not good.

I spotted them immediately as I approached the National Art Center; they had managed to avoid the alarm systems and were now gathering a handful of works of art on the vast roof. They had landed a helicopter on the roof – smooth, and who gave those geniuses a helicopter? – and were preparing to load it up.

Thinking quickly, I dove down below the rooftop and scaled the building. When I crested the roof, I did so just as they were about to load the first piece – a painting, or so it looked. The men gasped and staged backwards, nearly dropping the painting.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I said cheerfully. I could see the beginnings of light creep upwards from the horizon behind them.

"Wanderer!" one of the men said. Their faces were hid by ski masks – original – but the man who spoke sounded young.

"Delivering that painting, are you?" I asked without a hint of accusation in my voice. "A bit unorthodix, however, bringing it up to the roof first. Usually they keep things in the holding room until an armored truck can take them back to where they belong." I said this with a smile, and the men stood frozen, unsure of what to do. "In fact, why don't we bring all of this lovely artwork down to the holding room? I'm sure it would make things much easier on the museum owners and the moving men, after all."

They really had no choice; there was nowhere to run to on the rooftop, and in their minds if they did what I said, there might not be any repercussions.

"Come on, then," said a short, burly man in all black. "You heard the man."

It was somewhat of a tedious process, carefully carrying all of the paintings and sculptures down several flights of stairs to the ground floor. I watched the entire ordeal, and when the last sculpture was safely stowed, I heard the police sirens.

"Ah! There's your ride," I said, as if a taxi had pulled up. The men looked at me, some with loathing and some with shame. I smiled. "Next time leave the moving of priceless works of art to the professionals, ok?"

With that, I was off, knowing the perpetrators would all be inside of the police cars within spare minutes, and my work was done.

It was true what they said, that I have an unconventional method of dealing with criminals. But it works for me.

--

A/N: Please review, its important for me to know how you guys are liking it.


	4. The Crime

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Two: The Crime

Author's Notes: Ummm… I'm not entirely sure where this story is going. I mean, I know where it's going… generally… in the end, but I have no idea how it's gonna get there. Starting, um… now. Heh. Enjoy? Wish me luck?

Disclaimer: see previous chapters

------

"'The Biography of a Hero: Tokyo Celebrates the Wanderer!'" Misao shouted at the top of her lungs the next morning. I suppressed a moan – every few years, an article like this was published in the papers. It was one of the few parts of my job I disliked. I understand it is natural to be curious about a man so well-known to a city, but they must see that my privacy, my lack of identity, is something that must be maintained.

"Oooh, Himura, can I admire your 'strikingly large violet eyes'?" Misao continued, her own strikingly large blue eyes sparkling mischeviously up at me. "When do I get the honor of having you rescue me? Oh, Wanderer!" she fake swooned dramatically across the kitchen table so that Soujiro had to reach over her to hand me my morning tea.

"I'd leave _you_ to the dogs," I grumbled under my breath as I took the teacup from Soujiro, nodding my thanks.

"Hmph! Well, if you wouldn't save me, I'm sure Sou here would, wouldn't ya?" she asked, popping up from the table and beaming at my manservant. I lifted the hot cup of tea serenely to my lips, controlling my features perfectly – not for the first time, she was flirting with him. I saw his eyes glance wildly at me for help, but I pretended not to notice.

"Ah, well, o-of course, Miss Misao!" Soujiro stuttered, grinning through the blush on his cheeks. She pinched them swiftly before bouncing from the room.

"My hero!" she sang as she went. I chuckled, and I could've sworn I saw Soujiro shoot me a glare.

"You could've given me a hand," he said, an irritated smile in his voice.

"She's a little rambunctious, Soujiro, but she's hardly any trouble – "

"You know what I'm talking about."

I wanted to grin. It was the closest he had ever come to snapping at me.

"Look, Soujiro, if she truly makes you uncomfortable, perhaps spending more time around her would… acclimate you to her." I heard silence as he froze in the middle of cooking my eggs, and then after a moment he began again.

"She does not make me 'uncomfortable'." Soujiro said, as if in retort.

"Then what's the problem?" I countered.

Another pause. This one lasted long enough that I thought maybe I had finally offended him, for the first time in almost nine years.

"Nothing. You're right, of course." Soujiro's tone had returned to his normal-cheerful. "I'm just being silly."

I chuckled – he had come close to admitting that Miss Misao got underneath his skin, which was as good as admitting he had a little crush on her. I resisted the temptation to turn his advice concerning me and women back on him – but Miss Misao had pushed him far enough out of his comfort zone for one day.

------

It was an unusually quiet day. Typically, I spent anywhere from 10 to 32 hours out in Tokyo, 10 being a very light day, and obviously 32 being catastrophic. Today, I spent 5 hours outside of my home. Attempted rape, minor drug sales, and a bank robbery.

Master had classified for me the different types of emergencies: bank robberies were among the least extreme, more severe only than cats stuck in trees and children at the bottom of wells (did that even happen anymore?) Master would have scolded me for taking care of such a minute problem when a lesser hero could manage it, but the truth was that there were no lesser heroes in Tokyo. The last hero I had encountered, other than Master, who had retired years ago, had been the stoic Double Blade. Double Blade (I didn't know his true name, and he didn't know mine either) was a tall, silent menace of a hero. According to Master, the women went crazy for Double Blade's striking good looks, but I was preoccupied with his style of dealing with criminals. Double Blade was big on heroic punishment: killing murders, rapists, and bombers; roughing up kidnappers and thieves. He relished in doling out punishment, whereas I felt it better to leave punishment up to the government.

After all, my job is not to encroach on the duties of the government. It is to be there for people who have no way of crying out for the help of the government.

I talk of Double Blade as if he is an inferior hero, as if I don't approve of his methods. And I don't, honestly, but the truth is that not so long ago, I was just like him. Worse, even. I did not kill because I enjoyed it; I killed because I felt it was the only way to forever rid the world of criminals.

But things change. People change. I changed. I realized that if murderers have no right to take the lives of the innocent, then I have no right to take away the lives of the guilty. I am a hero, not a judge.

The bank robbery was handled quickly and easily. It seemed lately that the only ones attempting to commit crimes were those who knew little about doing so successfully. Amateurs, really. Not that I really minded – it meant an easier defeat for me. But I did hunger just a little for the thrill of fighting a villain who might just beat me. It is the nature of warriors to crave challenging battles.

That and I had to wonder where all the organized crime went all of the sudden: the local yakuza, the drug lords, etc. It was eerie and foreboding that they had all seemingly dropped off the face of the planet simultaneously.

Not to mention the "big time crime". The only crime, according to Master, that I should bother with at all. The kind of crime that involves people like me, who decide to cause harm instead of helping. The kind of crime that involves monsters and giants and men who can control minds and shoot fire from their fingers.

Supervillains.

I frowned as I ghosted over the skyline, reveling in the eerie solitude of the city below me.

It had been quite some time since my last "supernatural evil" encounter. Granted, they were rare enough – rare as superheroes, of course – but it had been a few years. Three? Four?

Tokyo was due.

I sighed as my house came into view. The location was perfect – on a large cliff overlooking the city. Not exactly discreet, but it was well known that Kenshin Himura was a billionaire; had inherited a large sum from a loving uncle, and quite enjoyed living in extreme wealth and solitude. My house – although the word hardly covers what my living space is – is a somber Gothic beast; all dark stone and cast iron. It is much larger than I require, but what can you do. I certainly won't complain, because for all its darkness, it is a quiet and comfortable place to live.

I touched down on the balcony outside my room, headed inside, and quickly changed out of my suit before jogging lightly down the stairs.

"Is that you, Master?" Soujiro's voice echoed throughout the house, and I paused to try and locate its source.

"Yes, I'm home, Sourjiro. Where are you?"

Sourjiro's cheerful laugh answered me.

"In the tea room, sir, just dusting a bit."

I made my way there, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen to munch on as I chatted with him. When I got to the tea room, I found Soujiro dusting inside the ancient armoire my old uncle was so fond of. I leaned against the doorway and took a huge bite of the apple.

"You're in civilians," Soujiro noted with surprise, referring to my sweatpants and t-shirt combo. I nodded and swallowed a huge bite of apple.

"The city's dead today, Soujiro," I told him, taking another bite of apple and watching him carefully for his reaction. "What do you make of it?"

He continued dusting.

"It makes me nervous, Sir." He said honestly. I felt my stomach clench as Soujiro's reaction matched my own, confirming my fears. I took another bite of my apple, as I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "We've seen villains before. It's been bad before. But no one's ever dried out all the crime in Tokyo. I don't know what it means, sir."

"You think someone's orchestrating it?" I prodded.

"You think it's all a coincidence?" he replied instantly, picking up a porcelain vase and inspecting it with narrowed eyes.

"Why, then?" I asked casually. Soujiro turned, finally, and grinned at me.

"How would I know, Sir? I'm but a humble butler."

I laughed.

"It was worth a try." I said with a shrug of my shoulders. I left Soujiro to his cleaning.

------

-somewhere, in the heart of the Kyoto Underground-

_In a dark room, a man shrouded in shadow sat upon cool satin pillows; nothing visible but the gleam of his yellow eyes and the thin spiral of smoke stemming upwards from a small, glowing red circle. The shuffle of paper – the only sound in the room but his unusually ragged breathing – indicated he was reading something, Across the long, apparently empty room – like a wide hallway with only one door opposite him – came a creaking, and that one door opened to reveal a sliver of sharp-edged light._

"_My Lord?"_

"_Report, please."_

"_Mongoose has accepted your offer, and Raging Koi is not far from doing the same. Some of the smaller yakuza are starting to complain. They'll rebel unless you invite them to join in on the fun." The man who had entered, and was now himself swallowed by darkness, was tall and had a sneering voice. The seated man chuckled._

"_You'll just have to explain their roles in my little game a little more clearly, then, won't you?"_

_The second man laughed with just a little too much relish, and the first chuckled quietly._

"_Don't have too much fun. This is work, and as powerless as they are, they are an integral part of the plan."_

"_No worries, boss. I'll rough 'em up just enough to get the point across."_

"_See to it that you do."_

_The second man, recognizing a dismissal, bowed and retraced his steps out of the dark, empty room, closing the door carefully behind him._

_The seated man, alone again, sighed. It was a complicated game to orchestrate, but with his fingers pulling the strings, it was all coming along seamlessly. It was funny, he mused, putting out his cigarette on a thin, bandaged arm, how a few years of careful plotting, of building alliances and planting spies and developing employees, how simple such a magnificent plan could be to pull off._

_Of course, it was all underground now. Things would get complicated when people began suspecting. It would be downright war when he finally stepped into the light, so to speak. When his plan was unveiled to the world. _

_He relished the thought. _

_But not yet. There were still some traps to be laid…_

_He harsh, jubilant laughter rang loudly in the empty room._

------

A/N: OK, yeah, so, I reeeeally am flying by the seat of my pants with this story. So far it's been one of the most unique fanfiction writing experience I've had so far.

It may take me forever to develop and finish this story, but I'm kind of obsessed with it, and have been for years. I hope to make this my best story yet. I love it, and I hope you do, too. Please let me know.

Forgive me for the enormous lapse in time between this chapter and the last. I've actually experienced some deaths in my life, and it's kind of thrown everything off for me. I'm returning to this story, hopefully, to help restore some balance in my life. Please review, loves :)

~Seabreeze


	5. The Outsider

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Two: The Outsider

Author's Note: Hey, how ya doin.

Disclaimer: See the prologue.

* * *

The next day – Sunday – there was nothing to do all morning. Typically Sundays are light days for crime and accidents and general trouble in Tokyo anyway, and while I had a four-car pile up to circumvent later this evening, I had at least a few hours to relax.

So, Sunday morning found me in flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt, eating cereal and lounging in front of my big-screen tv. I had invited Soujiro to join me and he had, of course, declined in favor of housework, and Misao was busy battling the security system, which had been refusing to accept her personal code lately.

Which is slightly hilarious, considering she's the only one who uses it.

Sunday morning television isn't the most exciting thing – I wound up watching the cooking channel for several hours. Soujiro did not openly give me trouble for this, though I could practically hear his inward chuckle at my expense.

Hey, it's not like I don't see enough action every day with my occupation. At least, usually…

It was around 11:30 when the doorbell rang through the mansion, and I froze.

"Soujiro!" I called, panic edging my voice.

"Relax, Sir, it's probably just girls selling cookies."

Even so.

I heard him making his way to the front door, and leapt up.

"Let me get it!" I hollered, sprinting down the hallway.

I met Soujiro in the tea room, just off the hallway and right next to the entry way. He sighed in exasperation upon my appearance.

"It's _your_ identity we're trying to protect, Sir," he reminded me.

"I don't like hiding behind my butler," I told him anxiously. Whoever was outside my door was small – I could see the person was a few inches shorter than me through the heavy stained glass.

"But you don't mind hiding behind a mask…?" Soujiro asked. I glared at him.

"That's different!" I snapped. I hurried to the front door before he could argue any more and flung it open so suddenly that the young woman behind it started, blue eyes wide.

"Yeah?" I asked, not bothering with my manners. A room away, I heard Soujiro sigh, and before me, blue eyes blinked.

"Hello, my name is Kaoru Kamiya, I'm looking for a Mr. Seta?" her voice was young like her face, and despite my rudeness, the girl did not look overly offended.

"Why?" I asked bluntly.

"Um," she said, furrowing her brows. "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

"Kenshin Himura. This is my house."

"Oh – do I have the wrong address?" brows furrowed over crystalline blue eyes, and it was an enormous effort, for some reason, not to scowl at her. Luckily, just as I began losing that particular battle, Soujiro appeared behind me.

"I'm Mr. Seta, Miss-?"

"Kamiya. Kaoru Kamiya."

"Welcome, Miss Kamiya. What can I help you with?" Soujiro smiled politely, and I gaped at him.

"I'm looking for a job, and a Mister Fukara at the downtown market mentioned you might possibly be looking for help."

The girl looked anxious, and I couldn't blame her. Who went around knocking on strangers' doors, looking for jobs? Honestly.

Soujiro's eyebrows drew together in what was a patent Sou-is-confused frown, despite the grin still gracing his lips.

"Mr. Fukara? I don't really recall – "

"He said you speak often of being overworked," she blurted out, and Soujiro cringed.

"Ah," he cleared his throat. "Well. Um."

I folded my arms over my chest and glared my death glare at him.

"What's this, Soujiro?" I said through clenched teeth. My manservant turned awkwardly to me.

"It's a big house," he explained weakly, and I huffed.

"Why didn't you say something to me before complaining to everyone in town?" I demanded.

"Not everyone in town!" Soujiro said defensively. "Look, I never meant for you to find out, but now that you know…can't I interview the girl?"

I glared at him for a long time, hoping he would take the hint. A minute later, I was still glaring, and it was getting awkward. I threw my hands in the air.

"Fine! Do what you want." I stormed away, and as I stomped up the stairs, I heard the girl say quietly,

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to cause so much – "

"Nonsense, don't mind him. He's not used to visitors, if you can't tell."

What a jerk!

- - -

Taking on a new staff member in the house meant a lot of changes. For one thing, it's one more person wandering around my house. For another, Soujiro gets free time, which can be disconcerting when you're used to him always _doing_ something. For another, it gives Miss Misao yet another reason to be chipper and hyper.

Oh, and it's one more person I have to keep my big secret from. Who is in my house all day.

At least she doesn't live here, like Soujiro and Misao do. Every time I hear that front door close after she leaves in the evening, I feel myself breathe easier – I can really be myself.

Soujiro had Miss Kamiya sign a strict confidentiality clause before taking her on – strict enough that I would refuse to sign, but maybe that's just me.

It's not just me who lives a double life anymore, either – Misao has become my genius niece who experiments in my basement. Not that _she_ minds our new guest at all, mind you – nothing this mansion needed more of, she said, than a little estrogen.

Whatever.

Still, despite all my complaining – and I assure you, I'm pretty annoyed, so it won't stop anytime soon – I don't regret letting Soujiro take on a little help.

He's been doing a two-person job for almost ten years. Ever since he had shown up on my doorstep – much like Miss Kamiya had done – all those years ago.

While still in my training, I had come across a young, grinning man attempting to murder a business man. The assassin was several years younger than I, and I did not hesitate to stop him. He had put up quite a fight – more fight, indeed, than any dastardly villain has ever given me yet – but in the end was defeated. He had been working for the local yakuza, and I told him that it was his life that was being wasted running errands for gangsters; that there are other – and better – ways to live. I asked him to act with honor from that moment on.

I did not expect my words had stuck, but the day I left my Master's dojo to begin my duties as a hero in Tokyo, a clean-cut looking Soujiro showed up on my doorstep, asking for a job.

Soujiro could have had great power in the yakuza – his martial arts skills at such a young age were astounding, even to me. When I had left him bruised as a child, I had fully expected to meet him again as a full-grown crime lord years later. Few men can resist the seductive pull of power.

Yet he told me my words had stirred his soul; that he stood up after I left and began to walk. He left Kyoto, and the yakuza, and never came back. His life was difficult for many years after that, but he eventually got a job at hotel, where he worked until he did some digging and found I was coming to Tokyo.

Part of me is just grateful Soujiro is on my side, and not working against me. My life would certainly be much more complicated than it is currently if I had him as a foe.

As for Misao, she was actually referred to me through Master, who seems to think I can use all the help I can get.

I am often flattered by my Master's thoughtfulness.

Soujiro rapidly became my brother, and Misao, too, has quickly ingrained herself into our little "family" of misfits with odd talents.

Perhaps Miss Kamiya won't take long to prove worthy of my respect.

Still, I can't help but feel as if something is wrong when it comes to her.

She is exceedingly quiet, and wisely treads lightly in my presence. Soujiro only seems pleased with her performance so far, and I myself have noticed that the towels smell just a little sweeter when I use them (her primary duty is laundry, and she helps Soujiro keep the mansion clean and tidy). She is polite and helpful, and stays out of my way.

I should be pleased, I really should. Or, at least, I shouldn't care.

Yet I do.

Maybe it's because I'm so used to my solitude, my routine. Soujiro lectures me daily about my refusal to let new people into my life.

I am afraid, at the deepest level, that they expect something wonderful to blossom between Miss Kamiya and I. That they expect her to turn me into the man I could be. The man I should be.

It is a naïve way of thinking. I am not "destined" to become anything. Not even a version of myself. No one is. That's not how life works. You are what you are, and the things and people in your life define you.

I have been defined. The man I am now – right now, at this very minute – that is what matters. I love my family, but this is not something they understand.

Besides. The city knows my persona – this Kenshin Himura – as a crotchedy, spoiled loner.

It only helps that I act the part convincingly.

- - -

Thursday afternoon, I felt a pull to the Tokyo suburbs, where a depressed young mother had decided suicide was her only option.

Suicide rescues give me the least satisfaction of all that I do.

Not that stopping them gives me no pleasure – it does – it's just that it is only the first step in a long and difficult journey for them. Murderers can be locked away; accidents thwarted. But when a person has decided to take their own life…

Let's just say I don't often see these people just once.

When I arrived at the woman's home 15 minutes before the act was to be performed, the problem instantly became obvious – a crying baby in a brand new crib.

Post-Partum Depression.

I didn't knock – suicidal people are always a little too distracted to answer the door – and found her crouching on the floor in her bedroom, sobbing hysterically.

I was not quiet as I leapt through her open window, but she did not notice. She jumped when I placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Wanderer!" she gasped, unable to calm her sobs, but wiping at her tears nonetheless.

"Miss," I said kindly. "I know what you're going through. I would really like it if you came with me,"

"How could you possibly know what I'm going through?!" the woman raged, curling over as a fresh wave of sorrow hit her. "The thoughts… in my head…" she began to cry so hard now that words were impossible. I wrapped a gentle but firm hand around her forearm and pulled her up and into me, rubbing her back with the other hand.

"It's my power, Miss," I said simply. "And those thoughts aren't yours. You're suffering from post-partum depression, I think."

She buried her head in my shoulder and continued to cry, and I took that as acceptance. Making a pit stop in the baby's room to pick him up as well – the father was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn't very well leave a helpless infant alone in his home – I carried them both to the nearest hospital.

Overall, it was very quiet. The woman – whose name I never caught – will be in good and watchful hands until medication straightens out whatever imbalance exists in her head.

Comic books don't always get everything right. Then again, I think they only focus on the more exciting events in a hero's life anyways.

I flew home feeling a little better about this suicide attempt than most others. Sometimes sorrow can hit you for no reason when you least expect it, and all it takes is for someone to catch you early enough for everything to be set right.

Whatever god had gifted him with superempathy – that's what Master called it, anyway – well, I am eternally grateful to him (or her). It is an amazing gift to a city. I have no idea why I was chosen to carry it, but I'm glad that it uses me to serve this beautiful, twisted city.

- - -

After Kaoru left that night, Soujiro and I were relaxing in the kitchen over a nice pot of hot tea. Well, I was relaxing. I think Sou only has two modes – work and sleep. So, I drank the tea he'd made, and he dusted the lesser-used area in the kitchen.

"Are you changing your mind about Miss Kamiya?" Sou asked from atop his stool to dust the top of the fridge.

"The jury's still out, Sou," I said, blowing briefly on my tea. Soujiro always got the temperature just right, but it was habit nonetheless. Probably a good thing – he wouldn't be making me tea forever, after all.

"How do you mean?" he asked, taking care to be especially polite and detached. "She's excellent help. I have much more time on my hands, and she's even better with the laundry than I was."

"Yes, yes, I know," I said, fighting off irritation. "My clothes smell lovely. I still don't like that we brought a civilian into the house."

"She doesn't live here," Sou pointed out.

"I know." I said. "But she's here all day, and the chance of her catching me doing something… out of the ordinary is pretty high."

"Why would she? She has no reason to go anywhere near your room – "

" – and she never looks out the windows? There's a direct view to my balcony from a few rooms downstairs, Sou."

"You're worrying too much, Mr. Himura! Misao and I know when you are in and out of the house, and there's always one of us there to distract her."

"Look, Sou. I know it's not very rational. You can't blame me for being uncomfortable with the situation, though."

He was quiet for a moment, and then climbed down from the stool.

"Alright, I'll give you that," he grinned at me. "Just try and relax. Miss Kamiya's going to be a good addition to our lives, I just have a feeling."

I tried to come up with a response that acknowledged the doubt in my stomach and placated SOujiro's expectations, but luckily right at that moment, Misao made her entrance, grumbling.

"Oh, hello, Miss Misao!" I said, quite relieved not to have to answer Sou. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I don't think," Misao said, frowning as she flopped onto the seat beside me. "Tea, please?" she asked Soujiro, who already had a cup ready for her. "Thanks." She turned back to me. "The transmission receptor gave a signal like you were getting a call, but it stopped right away."

"Is something wrong with it?" I asked.

"It's the only explanation I have," she said, setting her head in her arms on the kitchen table. "Augh! Why is everything I touch on the fritz?!"

"On the fritz?" Soujiro repeated, trying to suppress his usual grin.

"Oh, shut up." She said, peeking up from the table to glare at him. "And wipe that attempt at a frown off your face."

Soujiro's grin was full-blown when he turned away from her.

* * *

A/N: My playlist for this story is kick-ass. Ask me about it. Go ahead. I dare you.

PLEASE REVIEW! They make me happy...


	6. The Warning

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Four: The Warning

Author's Note: Hey, it's been awhile. Despite the, um, years between chapters, I do love this story and plan to finish it one day. The fact that I'm knocking out chapter four is a good sign, right? Right? Anyway, apologies to anyone who has been waiting on this story. Life kind of insists on coming before fanfiction writing, for some strange reason.

Disclaimer: See Prologue.

* * *

Weeks went by, and the crime rate evened out to a level I was more comfortable with. Nothing major, still, but enough to keep me on my toes and out of the house regularly each day. I had gotten used to my free time, as uneasy as it made me, so when I could grab a few spare hours, I took great advantage.

That Thursday afternoon, I chose to spend my free hours in my sweats watching the cooking channel. I had intended to avoid Soujiro so as to evade his mocking smirk, but to my luck he had found me almost as soon as I had settled down.

After offering to start a pot of tea for me, he smirked his way out of the room. Oh well. At least now I didn't have to worry about him finding me all afternoon.

"Here you go, Sir," Soujiro said as he brought the pot up to me. "Need anything else? I was going to take a break."

"No, thank you, Soujiro," I said, reveling in the warmth emanating from the teacup he had given me. "What do you do on your breaks, anyway?" I asked as my favorite show about a cupcake shop went to commercials.

"Not especially much," Soujiro said vaguely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm on break now!" he beamed at me and headed out the door, leaving the teapot on the coffee table before me. By the time I had given up attempting to figure out the mystery that is Soujiro, I was ready for another cup.

Fate had other plans.

The doorbell rang, and seeing as Soujiro had just taken his break, I was the only one available to answer. I jogged down the curved stairs and made my way to the door.

The man behind it was quite a shock.

Tall and dark-haired, he was unrecognizable to me beyond the sullen, monotone voice and overall uptight demeanor. I knew him only as the Double Blade, another hero I had come across in my earlier days as a Wanderer. Deadly fast and strong – stronger than me by no stretch of the imagination – the Double Blade's true danger came not from his physical capabilities or his weapons – two short blades, hence the name; but by the emotionless man that wielded them. Any deviant who performed an act particularly to the Double Blade's disliking – rape and murder, specifically – had much more to fear than their own victims.

Half the time, I can't help but suspect that it is the Double Blade's reputation that holds crime at bay in Kyoto.

Regardless, it was a considerable shock to find him on my doorstop, and in civilians, no less.

"What brings you here?" I asked. Another, more pertinent question came to mind, and I frowned. "…and how did you find me?"

"Your master, Hiko, of course." Came the Double Blade's deep reply. Of course.

"Ah. Come in."

Silently and brooding, the Double Blade swept into my entryway. I lead him to the tea room.

"If you'll take a seat, my manservant just made a fresh pot of tea. I'll go and – "

"I did not come to catch up and exchange pleasantries." the Double Blade interrupted sharply. What? What is this? What has the world come to? Is everything crumbling around me? Where is my place in a world where the Double Blade turns down a chat and some scones?

I choked back the insultingly sarcastic reply that fought to escape my throat.

"I figured as much, but it's getting cold outside, and I don't see what a cup of tea could hurt." I said, just a little snippily.

"Have your butler go get it, then," the Double Blade suggested coldly.

"He's on his break," I replied just as coldly. We glared at each other until finally, he sighed.

"Run and get your tea, then, if you must."

"Thank you," I said, and jogged upstairs to grab the convenient tea tray (complete with sugar, spoons, and a few tea cups along with the pot) Soujiro had left out for me not ten minutes before.

When I returned, I set the tray on the side table between us with relief. There were few things in life that could not be improved by a warm cup of tea. Especially the Double Blade's personality, which could take all the improvement it could get.

"Help yourself," I said, picking up the pot and refilling my already-used cup.

"I came to warn you, Wanderer." the Double Blade began, sitting still as a rock and watching me as I sipped.

"Warn me of what?" I asked sharply, lowering my tea cup.

"Things in Japan are not as they seem." the Double Blade replied.

…_AND_?

"That is often the case in this country," I said coolly. "Care to explain further?" he glared at me.

"The crime, in Tokyo, how has it been the past few months?"

This caught my attention. "Odd, to be frank," I said, frowning at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Crime rates in Kyoto dropped to almost nothing a few weeks back. Just as my suspicions reached a height, they began to rise up again. I did some digging, Wanderer, and the results were… troubling."

"What did you find?" I asked.

"Nothing concrete. Nothing sure. What I did find was that someone, somewhere is creating a power vacuum. Controlling the crime in Kyoto, and now Tokyo, and as I suspect, all over Japan."

"A power vacuum?" I repeated. "Where did you get this information?"

"I caught a lower-ranking member of one of Kyoto's more well-known gangs. Tortured him, but it didn't take long – he told me he had been left behind, that he didn't know anything. That told me, however, that the majority of the gang had gone somewhere. If he didn't know anything, that meant that he wasn't valuable enough to bring along. He told me he'd been given orders to attempt to keep everything going as normal, despite the fact that all the significant gang members were missing."

"You tortured him?" I asked, disgust tainting my voice.

"As usual, Wanderer, you are _completely_ missing the point – "

At that moment Soujiro and Misao entered the room, laughing, but the instant Soujiro caught sight of Double Blade, he froze. The tension in the room rose instantly, though Blade's demeanor didn't change much – I guess he's just always tense.

"Tenken," he said finally, deep voice revealing nothing; and his word everything. Soujiro's hands tightened noticeably on the laundry basket he held, and Misao's brow furrowed as she looked between the two men.

"Ao – Blade?" she whispered, wide blue eyes particularly bright.

I had suspected, upon taking Misao on as an employee, that such was the case – she was in love with Double Blade.

"Misao. You're doing well."

So much for finding out if he returns those feelings. He turned his emotionless eyes back to Soujiro, whose stiff smile looked more like a grimace than anything. For the first time since I had first met Soujiro, I grew worried for him.

"You chose an interesting way to finally contribute to society, Tenken," Double Blade said. It didn't sound at all like an insult, but it certainly didn't mean it wasn't one.

Soujiro's fingers were white against the plastic laundry basket, and Misao looked confused and hurt and about to cry, looking between the two of them, so I cleared my throat.

"Soujiro, Misao? Could you please excuse us? I need to talk to Double Blade privately." My cheerful voice sounded dumb enough in all the tension that I had to hold back a cringe.

I led Double Blade into the kitchen, ready to let him have it for giving Soujiro hell about his past.

* * *

– _Soujiro's Point of View_ –

* * *

"Sou?" Misao's voice was soft like falling leaves. I forced my face into a more convincing grin and turned to her.

"How do you know Double Blade?" I asked, beaming. Misao's face did not lose the concern etched about her eyes and lips, and her eyes still shone with tears for the Double Blade that had yet to fall.

"We grew up together." She explained, sapphire eyes sparkling up at me. "Sou… why did he call you Tenken?"

She knew. She already knew. My heart fell, and with it, for the first time in years, my smile.

"Because I am the Tenken, Misao." I couldn't bare her gaze, and looked away. "I was."

"_You're_ the Tenken?" she said softly. "You're the Tenken who fought Kenshin, and who beat Double Blade in battle?"

"I was young," I breathed, hating the desperation in my voice as I tried to defend myself. "I was troubled and confused. I did a lot of terrible things, Misao."

She was silent as I imagined all the horrible ways she would think of me from now on. I became lost, drowned in my thoughts, though I had known this day would come. She couldn't be ignorant of my past forever, even if she was just my coworker.

"Soujiro…you're not him anymore."

"I killed people, Misao." The outburst surprised even me, although suddenly blind fury rushed my veins. "Lots of them. Because I _could_." I turned sharply to stare directly into those innocent, spunky blue-green eyes I adored so much. They widened, and some part of me realized I had maybe never made direct eye contact with her in the short years we had worked and lived together in Himura-san's mansion; afraid of what she might see.

"You're not the Tenken anymore, Sou," she said softly. Delicate white fingers reached for my arm, but I pulled away first.

"Who I _was_ and who I _am_ do not matter. I can't escape what I have _done_. It is part of me."

Misao stomped her foot, and in my shock I looked up.

"Sou! I don't believe you!"

She looked mad! I gaped at her, and she started in on me, shaking her finger in my face.

"What you did in the past is what you did in the past, and you deal with it however the heck you like! But don't you act like I'm supposed to treat you like some criminal! I'm insulted!"

She snapped her back to me and crossed her arms, puffing angrily.

I continued to gape at her back, my mind blown wide open by her reaction. After a moment, I began to laugh – it wasn't funny, but I tended to default towards laughter when I didn't know how to react.

Misao whipped back around, glaring fiercely at me.

"_What_ is so funny?"

But I was laughing too hard to answer, deeply grateful the gods had blessed me enough to put Misao in my life.

"Nothing! Nothing is funny!" I giggled, fighting tooth and nail for control. Misao glowered at me, and I struggled to explain. "I just – I just didn't expect that reaction!"

Misao's eyes narrowed.

"What did you expect?" she demanded, hands on her hips. "That I would cower in fear of the _great_ Tenken?"

The sarcasm in her voice stung a little.

"…I'm told I was fairly intimidating…"

Now it was Misao's turn to laugh unexpectedly. The glee on her face was too much, though, for me to feel anything but relief.

"You? Mr. Smiley? _Intimidating_?" she snorted.

"Laugh all you like," I said, but in truth I couldn't even fake annoyance. I wanted to hug her tight. Only she could make me feel good after such an admission.

"Believe me, I will," she promised, eyes sparkling. "Now come on, all-powerful and frightening Tenken. You've got tea to brew."

* * *

_and back to Kenshin until further notice – _

_

* * *

_

"What was the point of that?" I demanded as soon as Soujiro and Misao's footsteps had faded away.

"I was merely making an observation, Wanderer. It is quite fascinating, the people you choose to keep around you." There was some intimidation in the suggestion – perhaps a threat; his way of warning me to keep Misao safe.

"The people I keep around me are the most trustworthy and good-hearted people I've ever met," I replied coldly, trying to suppress the rage at the insinuations Double Blade was making about Soujiro.

"I'm sure you think so," the Double Blade said coolly. Before I could fire back, he turned the track of the conversation back to our original topic. "But that is, at the moment, immaterial. I am convinced, Wanderer, that someone is about to make our jobs a lot more complicated. I came to both warn you and suggest an alliance, if it comes to that."

It takes me a minute to process what he has said, because I'm still fuming about his comments concerning Soujiro.

"It's a given that we will work together if we need to," I say, my voice hard. "You know how to reach me, and I only need a way to reach you." I press my lips together, thinking, before I speak again. "But to trust me is to trust the people I trust," I say, looking him straight in the eyes, so far above me. "Are we clear?"

After the Double Blade left – but not before agreeing, grudgingly, to accept that Soujiro was not the worst person ever – I sought Soujiro out to make sure he was recovering from this brush with his past.

Turns out, I wasn't really necessary to make Soujiro feel better – Misao had taken care of that, and when I came across them in the kitchen they were throwing dish soap at each other and laughing so hard they hadn't even realized I was there.

Still, the events of the afternoon left me feeling uneasy. The Double Blade's unannounced visit, his warning, his cruelty towards his former enemy and my best friend… I couldn't ignore my worries anymore, especially not now that someone else in the same line of work had the same observations. Something was afoot in Japan, and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

But the Double Blade had gone out into his city and found out helpful information, and maybe I could, too… in a purely I'm-not-about-to-torture-anyone kind of way. Making sure that Miss Kaoru was in the basement, I quickly donned my suit and took off into the city.

Hours of flying meant little when I had no leads, and to be honest I was never much of a search-and-find hero. Trouble always seemed to come right up to me, and I had no practice seeking it out. By the time I returned home, knowing no more than when I had left, and thoroughly frustrated, it was dusk. Miss Kaoru usually left around 5, and it was almost 6:30. I could relax.

The balls of my feet hit the balcony and I sighed, tired and relieved to be back. Nothing like crawling into a warm, soft bed after hours of work for nothing. I remove my mask before I'm even inside the doors that separate my room from my balcony, and toss it to the floor by my bed. I'm halfway to my walk-in closet when I see one of the large, ceiling-height doors to my room begin to open, unannounced… Soujiro and Misao both know to knock. That can only mean one thing.

I dash for the closet, yelling "HEY!" as I go. Thanks to my accelerated speed, the odds of her seeing anything are slim. Still.

"Oh!" I hear Miss Kaoru gasp and quickly shut the door again. "I'm _so_ sorry, Mr. Himura," She calls through the door, embarrassment plain in her voice. "I thought you were out, I was just bringing up your laundry – "

"It's fine!" I holler, stripping down to my briefs, tossing my suit to the farthest corner I can, and groping blindly for my robe in the darkness. "I just wasn't dressed!"

"I'm so sorry!" she repeats. "I'll just leave your laundry here…"

"It's fine!" I yell again, too relieved that she thinks I walk around my room in the nude to be upset. "Don't worry about it!"

I pause, and find the switch to light my closet, but there's no answer. She must already be downstairs.

I knew taking her on was a bad idea.

* * *

A/N: Bless Soujiro and Misao for carrying this story when Kenshin and Kaoru are being boring. Also, I didn't give Soujiro his own cool villain/superhero name 'cause none of them had the same ring to them as "Tenken" does. Tenken wins, I lose.

Side note… totally random… I LOVE writing from Kenshin's point of view, particularly the version of himself that he is in this story. He amuses me.

Please review, friends!

-SB


	7. Interlude: Take it All Away

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Five: Interlude – Take it All Away

Author's Note: Are you ready to angst it up? 'Cause I am. The song that I wrote this chapter to is called "Take it All Away" by a band called Red. It's kind of Kenshin's angst theme.

Disclaimer: See Prologue.

_-Past-_

"_I want a divorce. I'm sorry." His chest felt hard and resolute, but he could not meet her soft brown eyes._

"_This again?" she asked lightly from her spot on the couch._

"_Yes. For the last time, Tomoe. I can't be with you any more."_

"_Should I ask why, or just assume it's the same reason as always?" she asked, and he couldn't miss the teasing hint in her voice. _

"_It's too dangerous," he said, more quietly than he'd intended. "I can't handle the fear anymore, Tomoe. You'll never be safe. Not as long as you're with me."_

"_If it's my safety we're concerned about, don't I get a vote in the matter?"_

"_And get us stuck in a stalemate again? We never _do_ anything, Tomoe. I can't be your husband if it means putting your life in danger every second. I have to do this. I've made up my mind."_

"_We've taken every precaution necessary, and some unnecessary ones, too. We've _done_ plenty, and no one even suspects you have a wife. I'm safe." She stood up to meet him, placing her hands on either side of his face and smiling into his worried violet eyes._

"_If anything happens to you – "_

"_Don't you think I worry about you, too?" she asked with a small laugh. "You're out there everyday putting your life on the line while I sit at home and paint and watch tv. It hardly compares. If anyone should be complaining, it's me."_

"_I'm equipped to handle any danger that comes my way, Tomoe. You know that. But you're…" he swallowed and tore his eyes away from hers. "I never should have married you. How could I have been so selfish?"_

"_It's not as if you married me against my will. I knew what I was getting into, love. I don't regret it now, and I never will."_

"_And if you get killed for being the one I love?" he demanded, piercing her with sudden vibrancy in his eyes. She smiled and ran her fingers down the side of his face to his chin._

"_Don't pretend that was never a possibility. I love you, Kenshin. I want to be with you, whatever the cost. That is my choice."_

"_I'll _never_ forgive myself if anything happens to you because of what I am. You know that, right?" he demands angrily. "It will always be my fault."_

"_Stop acting like this is all on you. I told you. I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm risking. I know what we're both risking, and I would give my life away willingly in exchange for a few minutes with you. Don' t pretend like you don't need me, either. I know you better than that, love."_

"_That doesn't matter," he said with disgust. She laughed, but without spite._

"_Of course it does. It matters more than anything."_

_She surprised him with a kiss, pressing her lips softly to his and tangling her hands in his long red hair. He relaxed against her and wrapped her up tightly in his arms._

"_I love you so much," he said when they broke apart, slightly breathless and desperate. She rested her forehead against his._

"_I know. And I know this is hard for you, but you have to see… living a dangerous life with you is better than a safe life without you. I'd pick you every time, over anything."_

"_Over your own life?"_

"_I'm not afraid of death, Kenshin. I just don't want to lose you."_

"_I feel exactly the same way," he said a little bitterly. Finally, he sighed and sagged his weight against her. "I'll drop it for now. But I'm never going to let anything happen to you, Tomoe. Not ever."_

"_Don't make promises you can't keep, love." Tomoe said with a sudden giggle. She pressed another quick kiss to his lips. "What will you do against sickness? Or a flood? Or an alien invasion?" he laughed a little, relaxing in his wife's embrace._

"_Everything I can, Tomoe."_

_-A year later-_

"_Choose, Wanderer," the villain Kurogasa ordered with a cruel cackle. He held Tomoe in one arm, a sword crossing her throat, and in the other, a remote control. "The woman you love, or innocent civilians? The choice is up to you."_

_Kenshin choked on his words as he stumbled towards his enemy and his wife._

"_Hold it!"Kurogasa ordered. "One more step and they're both goners. Pick one. Are you a man, Wanderer, or a Super Hero?" _

"_I – " his voice was hollow, and he could not remove his eyes from his wife's. _

"_Go on, love," she whispered. "You know who you are." She gave him a smile, and he felt his heart break right open in his chest._

"_I can't…"_

"_You already have. Ages ago. And that's why I love you."_

"_So, what do you – " Kurogasa began, but Kenshin cut him off._

"_Let them go." Never in his whole life had it taken more strength to do anything but to utter those three words. His chest was hard again. He never moved his eyes away from Tomoe's. "The subway. Throw down the remote." His voice had begun to shake, as did his hands and his vision, but his wife held him steady with her eyes. Even when Kurogasa began to laugh. Even when he spoke, though Kenshin would never know what he said. _

_Even when Kurogasa took the Katana and stabbed it brutally through Tomoe's heart._

_The cry that was wrenched from his lips was inhuman, and Tomoe seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion, her blood like ribbons swirling around her in the air. Just as she collapsed at Kurogasa's feet, the world came into stark focus. Snow whirling around him, his wife's blood soaking the ground, the tang of snow and metal and blood in the air, his own trembling which seemed to come from his very atoms._

"_The wise choice, Wanderer, but the right one? You have saved lives and ended the life of the one you love most. You have chosen heroism over manhood, and sacrificed a part of yourself today. I – " but Kenshin snapped his neck, and would never hear the rest of Kurogasa's diatribe. He fell to his knees by Tomoe's side._

"_I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you. Beloved, stay with me."_

_She was fast turning the color of the snow as the snow around her became a deep scarlet. Her hand shook as it reached for his cheek, stroking it with cold, light fingers._

"_Ah…" she beamed shakily at him, and a heavy stream of blood seeped down her chin from the corner of her lips._

"_Tomoe," Kenshin choked, pressing her hands to his face._

"_Love you." She whispered, and made a sound like the one she would make when she lay her head on his shoulder before falling asleep every night. Her body gave a violent shudder, and her hand fell limp in his own._

_The snow fell._

_-Present-_

"I still don't understand, beloved," I whispered from in front of the grave that marked my wife's place in the ground. I had worn my best suit, as I always did to visit her, and brought the most beautiful cherry blossoms I could find to rest against her headstone. The warm summer breeze shifted my hair lazily about my head. As foolish as it may be, I like to think it's Tomoe's way of reaching out to be through the veil.

"I don't know if I ever will." I reached out to trace my fingers over the letters carved into her stone – Watsuki Tomoe, Beloved. "I'm so sorry."

The words are ancient and well-rehearsed. I can't seem to say them enough.

"I never should have gotten involved with you. I loved you too much. I was selfish."

I could hear her response in my head along with the breeze, if only because we had discussed the very thing so often when she was alive.

_I was happy, love._

"…and now you are dead and I am alone."

_I am always with you._

"Everyone tells me so. They all say you are with me, in my heart and my memories." I laughed bitterly. "A stupid thing people tell you when you've lost the person you love most in the world, and it is the only comfort they can offer. You are with me, but I cannot see you or feel you. I cannot touch your skin or hear your laugh. I cry out to you, and I am alone. Always."

_It can't be the same, love. I'm here regardless. I never leave you alone, even it it doesn't feel like it sometimes._

"If I had just left you be…"

_You would be more alone than you are now._

"But you would be alive. You could run and swim and laugh and maybe fall in love."

A soft chuckle.

_I told you, love. I choose you. Every time._

I sighed. Even in death, she would not allow me to win an argument.

"I love you."

_I know._

I kneeled and pressed my lips to her headstone, just above her name.

"Stay with me." It was a plea, and a hopeless one, but I made it every time nonetheless.

The breeze seemed to wrap itself around me for a brief moment, and I closed my eyes to the feeling. After a moment, I turned and walked the path leading away from her grave.

Mostly, when you've lost something dear, it's all you can do to hang on to what's left.

Sometimes, though, what's left is only a burden. Something to carry, something to toil under.

Something that could be taken, too.

Sometimes you just want someone to take the burdens off your shoulders. Take it all away.

Loss leaves an absence in your life – maybe it would be better to be an absence yourself.

A/N: RR me, mates.


	8. The Rescue

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Six: The Rescue

Author's Note: And back to our regularly scheduled… ok… _sporadically_ scheduled… story.

HUGE, GARGANTUAN, MEGA-GINORMOUS THANKS to my BRAND SPARKLING NEW beta reader, Sumiregusa!

Disclaimer: See Prologue.

* * *

I was doing my rounds a few days later when I felt distress in the little neighborhood not far from my house. I followed the tug in my chest over the streets and shops to a hidden alleyway, in which several gangster-types had cornered a small woman. She was crouched low in a defensive stance, but she was favoring her left ankle. As I got closer, I noticed that her dress was torn and her hair was disheveled.

Did I also mention I noticed that she was Miss Kaoru? Because she was. And I noticed.

"Stay back!" she yelled at her aggressors, lashing a powerful-looking warning kick out at them. Stray strands of inky black hair fell into her eyes, and I cleared my throat as my feet touched the ground behind the thugs. Her eyes flicked up to me briefly.

"What's going on here?" I asked, making sure to use my slightly-deepened Wanderer's voice. Miss Kaoru took the gangsters' momentary shock to snatch her purse back from one of their hands.

Feisty.

"Shit." One of them murmured.

"This doesn't look to me like a friendly gathering." I noted, a warning in my voice. Behind the men, Miss Kaoru attempted to straighten her hair and clothes.

"We was just teasin' her a little," on of them said a little sullenly. "No harm meant." His friends murmured and agreement and started to slink past me, but I put my arm out, holding them back.

"You had her purse, and her clothes are ripped." I said. "Only an idiot would think you meant no harm. Give me one reason why I shouldn't bring you to the police right now."

There were shouts at this, and I held up a hand, silencing them instantly.

"What you attempted to do tonight was cruel and pointless. If I catch any one of you acting like this again, I won't hesitate to turn you in. This is a warning." I met each one of their eyes calmly, and when I was done, I nodded, and they shuffled past me, grumbling. I watched them go, and then approached Miss Kaoru, who was still trying to get her hair in order.

"Are you alright, Miss?" I asked. She gave me a sharp glower.

"I'm _fine_. I didn't need your help."

I tried not to look shocked.

"I could see that, but I would've been remiss to pass you by. Did they hurt you at all?"

I made my voice kind and gentle, but she only glared harder as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"No," she snapped, and began limping past me. "Thanks for your _interference_."

"Miss, your ankle!" I said, watching her left foot wobble in the heels she wore.

"I told you I'm _fine_. Leave me alone. I didn't ask for your help." From behind, I saw her attempt to try and walk normally.

This just would not do. I floated up behind her and scooper her up bridal-style, to a gasp of indignation on her part. "What the _hell_ – "

"You're going to injure it further," I said gently, my voice low in her ear. I began to rise into the sky. The sun was not yet setting, but the sky was darkening. "I know you _can_ handle everything on your own, Miss, but it doesn't mean you _should_."

"Put me _down_," she ordered, sounding odd, as if she were faint, or embarrassed. "Of all the arrogant… this is ridiculous!"

"Where can I take you?" I asked, ignoring her rudeness, as we rose above the buildings around us.

"You can put me back where you found me!" Miss Kaoru shouted, and with a quick glance down, I saw she was all red. I held back a chuckle.

"If you won't tell me, I'll just carry you around until you get bored. It's up to you."

In my arms, Miss Kaoru crossed her arms and huffed.

"34th and Main street." She said shortly. "The red apartment building."

I banked slightly right and shifted my arms slightly around her to protect her from the cool evening breeze.

"What floor do you live on?" I asked.

"What are you, a stalker?" She demanded grumpily. "The third."

I laughed softly.

"I'm not a stalker, but if you want to complain to the police department, I know someone down there who would just love to get that report." I said, thinking of Saitoh.

"Maybe I will." She said, but I knew she had not taken the suggestion seriously.

When we reached her street and building, I brought her up to the windows on the third floor, and asked which was hers. We went around to the back and luckily, she had a little terrace with a door to her apartment. I set her down gently on the wooden floorboards and gave her a small smile.

"I know you won't be sad to see me go, but take care of that ankle, all right?"

She only shook her head in apparent disgust as she slid her patio door open and slipped inside without another word to me.

How interesting. When I'm Kenshin Himura, I'm horrible to Miss Kaoru, but when I'm the Wanderer, she is horrible to me. I grinned and took off into the setting sun.

* * *

The next day, I looked forwards to seeing Miss Kaoru and what she had to say about her rescue. I was busy in the morning – a minor riot and an attempted murder – so when I found her that afternoon, she was in the kitchen, folding laundry and listening to the radio.

"Mr. Himura!" She said in mild surprise when I walked in. "I didn't expect to see you today. Is it all right that I'm folding laundry in here? I can leave if you'd prefer…"

"No, that's fine." I said a little stiffly. "I was just going to get a snack. I'll only use the counter."

Looking a little tense, Kaoru continued to sort the clothes into piles on the kitchen table. I pulled a box of crackers from the cupboard and paused.

_Say something. Anything._

"Soujiro told me you were late yesterday."

…_but _that.

"Oh," Miss Kaoru said, setting her hand gently on the pile of clothes closest to her. "Yes, I was. I'm very sorry. I've been sleeping horribly lately, and I missed my alarm. I can stay later tonight if – "

"Nonsense." _Sigh._ Even when I'm trying to be nice, I cut her off. "It was half an hour. I was just wondering if we keep you here too late."

"Oh." She said again, and resumed her folding. "No, not at all."

Something resembling comfortable silence filled the kitchen, and I munched on crackers as I pretended to look over Soujiro's to-do list on the fridge, wondering why I couldn't just be nice to the poor girl. The Wanderer had no issues with her, but for some reason, _I_ did.

Just as I was going to begin another (probably miserable and awkward) conversation with her, Misao burst into the room, goggles shoved up on her head and a smear of grease across her cheek.

"Afternoon!" she sang, and gave Kaoru a one-armed hug around the shoulders. "Either of you seen Sourjio around?"

"He's been polishing silver in the dining room for the past few hours," I said, amused. Misao had to be the cutest little geek there ever was.

"Why?" Miss Kaoru asked over her laundry. Misao got a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I'm going to make him escort my to my five-year high school reunion." She said proudly, and Kaoru laughed.

"When is it?" I asked.

"Tonight!" Misao said promptly. "I'm leaving in an hour, so he needs to get himself cleaned up. Oh, and Kenshin, you're letting him off early tonight, okay?"

She beamed at me so brightly that I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fine." I said. "But does he have any clue what's expected of him?"

"What's expected of who?" Soujiro asked from the doorway, smiling and nodding at Misao and Miss Kaoru.

Misao spun to face him and grinned. "You! You're my date for my high school reunion tonight!"

Soujiro immediately blushed and looked baffled.

"I am? But I have to work – "

"Kenshin said you can go early."

"I don't have anything to wear – "

"Kenshin will let you borrow some clothes!"

…Says who? But I let it slide, because these two were just too fun to watch.

"But…"

"You wouldn't make her go by herself, would you?" Miss Kaoru teased. Misao immediately took the cue to use her famous puppy-dog eyes at him. He looked flustered.

"You do _want_ to go, don't you?" Misao asked, pouting.

"Of course!" Soujiro said quickly, though I suspected what he wanted most was for Misao to stop making that face at him. "Of course I want to go! It's just very sudden, and well, I'm flattered…"

"Great!" Misao clapped her hands together and kissed him on the cheek. "Meet me in the entryway in 45 minutes! And look cute!" She said this last part fiercely, shaking her finger in his face, before flouncing out of the kitchen. Behind her she left Soujiro looking stunned, Kaoru trying not to giggle, and me barely containing my grin. Boy, was it fun to see Soujiro like this, and no one could do it quite like Misao.

"Mr. Himura, would you mind if I borrowed – ?"

"Go ahead." I said, trying as hard as I could not to join Miss Kaoru in her giggling. Soujiro nodded, still a bit shell-shocked, and started to leave the room. "And Soujiro?" I asked. He turned to look at me. "Look cute." I said, keeping my face as straight as possible. The look he gave me in return was literally without explanation – something like indignation, fury, terror, giddiness, and confusion all rolled into one.

By the time we heard him ascending the stairs, Miss Kaoru was laughing softly. I smirked and started to put the box of crackers away.

"They're sweet, aren't they?" Miss Kaoru asked. When I turned to look at her, she was finished with the laundry, and sat smiling at the doorway fondly.

"Sweet's one way of putting it," I replied.

"Do you think…?"

"Do I think what?"

"Well…" Kaoru bit her lip and tugged gently on the end of her ponytail, laying gracefully over her left shoulder. "The two of them. What's… well, what do you think is going on?"

"You're a woman. Aren't you supposed to be more insightful than me?" I asked, meaning to tease but sounding more misogynistic than anything.

"You know them better," She pointed out, seemingly not offended my by tone. "What do you think?"

I sighed and crossed my arms, thoughtful.

"I wonder about it, too, sometimes." I said. "There's definitely something there on one side, but it's hard to tell if it's… reciprocated."

Miss Kaoru grinned.

"I think I know exactly what you're talking about." She said. "You're very lucky to have them."

This turn in the conversation caught my attention, and I looked at her sharply.

"What?" I asked, eloquent as a poet.

"You're like a family." She said softly, beginning to stack the small piles of laundry back in her basket. "They care about you very much."

For a moment, I was speechless. Part of me wanted to snap at her for pretending to know about my life, and another part wanted to contradict her. What came out of my mouth, though, was completely different, and stopped her in the doorway.

"You have them too, you know."

… uh, _what_, self?

Kaoru turned and looked at me, puzzled. And maybe a little sad.

"I just mean," I scrambled to explain, "I just mean that they care about you a lot, too."

"Oh." Miss Kaoru said. "Thank you."

She wouldn't meet my eyes.

"It's true," I said. "I wouldn't say it if it weren't. They're all ready to bring you into the family, Miss Kaoru, but…" I swallowed and wondered how my mouth had gotten away from me so quickly, and was apparently now frolicking in the fields of utter insanity. "…I'm not very friendly." I said, and she looked up at me in surprise. "And I'm sorry for that. It's nothing personal. Misao and Soujiro adore you, but I have a hard time letting anyone into my life. It makes me uncomfortable."

Miss Kaoru stared at me; mouth slightly agape. After a moment, her shoulders gave the tiniest shrug.

"You don't need to apologize," she said. "You're my employer, and you treat me well and pay me well. I don't expect anything else. It wouldn't be fair." She smiled, but it didn't quite make it to her eyes.

My mouth wanted to say more, but I had somehow regained a handle on it. I watched her finally leave the kitchen, feeling very strange about our conversation.

* * *

_Everyone had left the mansion. Soujiro and Misao were at Misao's reunion, Kaoru had gone home hours ago, and Kenshin was doing his rounds. The rooms were dark and the beams of moonlight traced their surfaces slowly, crawling across the expanse of space; the ornate furniture, the shining wooden floors. From somewhere on the second floor, a door slammed shut. An inhuman, high-pitched laugh followed, resonating through the rooms like a gust of wind. It went on far longer than human lungs could carry it, raising to a howl at times and then dissolving into manic warbles. Slowly, it began to fade, disappearing into silence as if it had never rang through the halls of the empty mansion. Stillness followed, and the moonbeams continued their slow climb across walls and cabinets and bedposts._

_Someone laughed softly._

* * *

A/N: If you are reading this, you are morally obligated to **REVIEW THIS STORY**. Telling me how pretty and special I am is optional, but also encouraged._  
_


	9. The Call

Greater Than Gravity

By Seabreeze

Chapter Seven: The Call

A/N: If you're surprised/grateful that I got this out in a seriously timely manner (for me), you have **Sumiregusa** to thank. If you want to read another amazing Kenshin AU fic, check out her story "Shattered". It is very mysterious and detailed, and also updated regularly.

Also she makes sure I spell words good and that my sense makes story. (I told her not to correct this because I think I am hilarious.)

Sidenote – to my reviewers. I don't have very many of you, but I don't care, because you guys leave the best reviews. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Boo. Go Away.

* * *

The next morning, I found Kaoru carrying a large basket of laundry down from Soujiro's room. To my keen eyes, I noticed a definite catch in her step – the ankle she had hurt fighting off the street thugs.

"Miss Kaoru!" I said, hurrying up to meet her mid-stairway and relieve her of the laundry basket. "Why are you limping?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she replied, blushing slightly. "I wore heels the other day, and it was rainy, and… I slipped. But I have an ankle brace. I'm fine."

Never heard _that_ one before.

"You're making me nervous. Let me carry this downstairs."

"Mr. Himura, that's not necessary. I…" but I was already halfway down, and when I got to the first floor I turned and waited for her. She made her way quickly and carefully down the stairs before taking the basket back from me, not meeting my eyes. "Thank you."

"Be careful." I said, and for the strangest moment, we only looked at each other. She opened her mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut when the sound of the kitchen door banging open rang through the main hallway.

Before I could figure out what the look on her face meant, Soujiro and Misao burst in, looking decidedly tense.

"Kenshin! I – " Misao glanced at Kaoru briefly and then turned back to me. "I started a small fire in the basement."

My stomach sunk.

"Excuse me," I told Miss Kaoru, and followed Misao out of the room, Soujiro tailing behind us.

There was no fire, of course. "Starting a small fire in the basement" was our code for "Something is wrong, and we can't let Kaoru know what."

"Soujiro," I said under my breath. "Keep Kaoru away from the basement, will you?"

"Of course, sir." Soujiro said, and we heard him spin on his heel and hurry away from us.

Misao didn't hesitate.

"Aoshi called. He needs to talk to you." She said quickly, and I saw that she was clutching her cell phone tightly in her fist.

"He needs to talk to me?" I whispered back as we made our way down the basement stairs. "Why didn't he just use the comm system – ?"

"He can't." Misao spun to face me mid-stairwell, the worry in her eyes truly frightening. "He said he can't get a hold of any hero, from any city, or even any of the outskirts heroes. I tried the comm system, Kenshin, and ours won't connect to anyone, either."

"But how can that – ?"

"Remember about a month ago?" Misao whispered hurriedly, continuing down the stairs to our communication room/ her "experiment" room, which required her own special security code for entrance. She punched it in quickly and led us into the small metallic room. "I started getting a transmission and it cut off. I don't think it's worked at all since then."

"You mean you think someone figured out our communication network, and fried it? How could they do that?"

I immediately tried to tap in The Double Blade's code. Failed. The Bad Man and Fox Lady, heroes for the outskirts and suburbs of Tokyo. Failed. The Opalescence. Failed. Master. Failed.

"It only gets used in rare emergencies, so it wasn't that unusual that we hadn't seen any activity from it in awhile," said Misao, sounding miserable.

"Hand me your phone." I said, clicking Aoshi's name in Misao's phone and hitting 'Call'. "And stop feeling guilty. No one could've foreseen this."

"I should've looked into the failed transmission. There was just so much going on with the security clearance and Kaoru joining the house, and …" she lapsed into despondent silence.

The phone barely rang after connecting before I heard the Double Blade's voice.

"Wanderer."

"Double Blade. My communicator won't connect with anyone. What's going on? What do you know?"

"I've sent word to everyone I could. We're lucky Misao and I had a personal relationship, because you'll know before anyone else."

"Blade. _Tell me what you know_."

"I was right. It's a power vacuum. I don't know for sure, but I think whoever's controlling it has eliminated the lesser heroes. You and I have been cut off from everyone else and left blind. Someone doesn't want us to know something, and it's big, Wanderer."

"Eliminated – ?" I asked, thinking of Japan's other kind yet quirky heroes.

"I said I don't know for sure." The Double Blade snapped. "If my sources are correct, you and I are in a lot of trouble. As far as we know, we're the only holdouts. The word is that the leader of it all is underground here in Kyoto, which means things are going to get very rough for you. He's going to want to keep you in Tokyo, and keep you very busy. Busy enough that you may need my help, especially because things will be very calm here."

The words sunk in slowly. Whoever he was, he had us cornered. Two cities. Two heroes needed in one obvious location where they would meet their downfall, while the other location grew in power. This was not good.

"We can't do this alone," I concluded.

"I know." The Double Blade retorted tersely. "How much do you trust your manservant, Wanderer?"

"Soujiro?" I blanched, and then felt sick anger welling in my stomach. Misao looked at me sharply. "This is _not_ the time to call into question the loyalty of – "

"He has abilities." Double Blade interrupted. "If you and Misao place such great trust in him, he may be our only shot at success here."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I mean that he may need to handle Tokyo while you come to Kyoto."

"And… Soujiro is _not_ trained… what are we going to do when we arrive, Blade?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you might want to contribute to the master plan here."

Sarcasm. So very called for in this moment.

"How much time do we have?" I asked, changing tacks.

"I doubt they expect us to figure it out at all, not until Tokyo comes under fire." He replied. My brain clicked into gear, whirring faster than I could keep up with.

"We're going to need help." I breathed. I turned to Misao.

"Misao. I need you to get Kaoru out of the house somehow. Say I need her to pick something up, or… I don't care. Find something. Then bring Soujiro down here. Okay?"

"But Kenshin – "

"Hurry. Please." I gave her an apologetic look and she left without another word.

"Without the others, we have no hope." I told the Double Blade.

"We don't even know that the other are alive."

"We don't know they've been killed, either." I retorted fiercely. "I highly doubt they've killed the masters, in any case, and we could use them and their pupils if absolutely need be. For now, we need to find out who is in what state. Find out what you can, and get to me through Misao."

"Do you think that line is secure?"

I laughed at the doubt in his voice.

"It's Misao's line," I said, irked by his lack of faith in her. "Nothing could be safer."

The Double Blade paused.

"Fine." He said. "I will call Misao in six hours." The line clicked, and he was gone.

* * *

Misao had sent Kaoru on a mad goose chase across the city for some fire-retardant sheets I wasn't sure existed. The second she was out of the door, I called an immediate meeting with Soujiro and Misao and relayed the Double Blade's information to them. Misao's mouth was set in a hard line, and Soujiro's smile was much more wan than usual.

"What do you need us to do?" Misao asked, and I noted that there was something in her voice beyond mere worry. That would have to be dealt with later.

"We need to find the other local heroes and, firstly, make sure they're alright, and secondly, ask them for their help. I'm going to visit Master and Chief Saitoh at the Police Station, but I need you two to find the Bad Man and the Fox Lady if you can."

"Of course." Said Soujiro immediately. "Where do we find them?"

Feeling a tinge of guilt, I wrote down the duo's address and handed it to Soujiro. I had been sworn to secrecy, but it was in their best interest.

"What happens if they're not okay?" Misao asked. I met her eyes. Something was definitely not okay with her.

"Get them whatever help you can." I said, holding her gaze. Soujiro watched the exchange, puzzled. "The Double Blade will be contacting you on your phone in about six hours to report what he's found out, so I need you to hurry."

"We're on our way." Soujiro said.

"Sou," Misao said suddenly. We both stared at her. "Get the car started, will you? I'll be right out."

Oh boy.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll pull it around to the front." He said, grinning at her, and then giving me a halfway- apprehensive look before leaving.

Misao waited until the door had closed behind him, and rounded on me, a ferocious look taking over her delicate features.

"I _heard_ you talking to Aoshi," she accused.

"I know," I said. "I was there."

"Tell me one thing, Kenshin Himura. Tell me you're not thinking about putting Soujiro in some sort of dangerous position."

Oh. OH.

"Misao," I said, so surprised that I had completely lost the ability to form sentences for a moment. "Of course not. No. I wouldn't dream – The Double Blade just – "

"I know Aoshi thinks Sou's a bad person, and I know that Soujiro is almost as talented as you at fighting. But that's no excuse! He's given that life up! You can't think to ask him – "

"Misao." I put a hand on her shoulder and felt her trembling with rage. "Soujiro is my best friend. I wouldn't ever, ever, in a million lifetimes, ask him for something like that."

I watched her eyes soften and felt the trembling subside, but couldn't stop myself from continuing.

"And you can't blame Aoshi for worrying about you. He wants you to be safe, and he's only seen one side of Soujiro. What he said on the phone… I think it was his way of giving you both a peace offering. Misguided, definitely, but he _was_ trying."

Misao's eyes began to look shiny, and I felt dread well in my stomach. Women. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"I'm sorry, Kenshin." She sniffed into my shoulder as I awkwardly patted her head. "It's not that I don't trust you, or…I'm just… afraid."

"Things are scary right now," I agreed. Misao pulled away from me. "We have to look after each other, okay, Misao?" she nodded. "We have to _trust_ each other. And you need to help Soujiro find the other heroes, okay? The sooner the better."

Misao hugged me again, and an evil thought popped into my head.

"What happened at that reunion, anyway?" I asked slyly. Misao narrowed her eyes at me.

"Nothing, you pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter and go save the world!"

* * *

Several hours later, we had gotten a lot done. In between my duties, I had visited Master, who, after calling me every variation of "idiot" possible, welcomed me home and promised to help out if and when it came down to it. For all the abuse, this calmed my nerves a great deal – if I can count on anyone outside of myself keeping Tokyo safe, it is certainly Master. He might even do a better job than me, and I would be grateful for it.

Misao and Soujiro had encountered a little trouble locating the Bad Man and the Fox Lady – it turned out they had been locked into the dungeon of their own lair (a dungeon? Kinky…) They were a little beaten up and dehydrated, but otherwise fine, and were on their way with my two messengers back to my house. They would act as my sister and her boyfriend for Kaoru's sake, and would spend most of their time "sight-seeing" to avoid her.

I had sent out messages to a few other heroes outside of Tokyo, and while some has responded similarly to how I responded to the Double Blade, some did not respond at all. As soon as Soujiro and Misao got back, I would send them off again. It would be faster to separate them, but at this point in the game, it's too much of a risk.

* * *

Bee-yotches (ew), this story just got a couple chapters longer, because my original plotting was dumb. I had to un-dumb it. You are welcome, both for a better plot and a longer story.

THANK YOU for your lovely reviews! 3


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